Old Birds Alphabet
by GW Katrina
Summary: Bits of life with Altair, Maria, Malik, his wife, and their children. Arranged along a set of words done in alphabetic order. OCs Malik's wife, the two couples children  Altair/Maria, Malik/OC, Altair/Malik


bAcceptance/b

As a Christian, Maria knew that what was happening between her husband and his second in command was immoral and indecent. It broke their marriage vows on several levels, and any woman she had known before she had left home would have been horrified at the idea of their husband and another man. It was almost expected at times for men to find another woman to bed, but a man...

As a Templar turned Assassin, she was a bit more...accepting. She still did not understand fully what drove Altair to Malik's bed on a semi-regular basis, but she had come to realize it was not due to a lack of ability on her end. It was simply something that she could not provide. A shared history, perhaps, or perhaps there was some sort of physical draw.

It was not as if she and Altair did not spend time with one another as well. If nothing else, Ayah showed that they had spent their fair share together, quite enjoyably at that. The boy was the image of his father, and he already had a great fascination with heights. That was going to drive her to despair, though she adored the boy. Perhaps soon she might consider having another. Being an only child was lonely.

He was, in a way, the reason she was able to accept what happened between the two men. This was not something that Malik would ever be able to match. No matter how many times he and Altair rutted with each other, there would be no child between them. That was something that she could do, had done.

So she allowed them to spend their time together as they would, without allowing it to cause complications in their lives. Altair needed them both, and it had taken a while for the three of them to find a sort of balance between them. Maria had been jealous at first, but slowly realized that it was nothing that she could change, and that trying to force it to happen would drive a rift between Altair and herself.

She was an Assassin now, and she would follow the Creed.

Anything was permitted.

bBinding/b

She wove him in ties that were tighter than any other trap he had ever been caught in. Malik -knew- there was going to be no escape for him.

Carefully balancing, he looked down at the tiny form he held, Jameela resting on a bed nearby.

He had a daughter. Who was red and making a tiny scrunched up face at the world.

Malik suppose he couldn't blame her, but he also knew that he would do anything for her.

"Raja," Jameela said softly. "That is what we should name her."

That only got a nod, Malik fascinated with this tiny form cradled in his arm. He was lost, and he knew it. He would be forever tied to this child, and she to him.

This was one bond he would treasure.

bCat/b

After Maria had died, Altair had tried to not take too much advantage of the bed offered to him by Malik and Jameela. It was a kind offer, one he did take advantage of on a regular basis, but not one he wanted to overdo.

So when the cat had decided to move itself into his rooms, he didn't throw it out too often.

In a way, he decided with some amusement, it was a bit like having Maria around again. It glared the same way she did when he did something stupid.

He named it Cat. Malik had mocked him.

bDeals/b

"You need a wife, and I need a husband."

The woman was gorgeous, which made Malik think her name was appropriate, but that didn't stop him from lifting a brow at her with a bit of snort. "And we are having this conversation...why?"

Jameela gave a wry smile back. "It's our duty to produce children to carry on the lines and the Assassins. I don't want someone who will try to keep me tucked away and letting my skills go to waste. And I doubt you want someone who will cling to you, as a few have already tried to do."

That got a bit of a scowl from Malik, who had been dealing with a few more determined hunters. He had Altair in his bed, that should tell them that he did not want some fawning creature. Altair was many things, obedient and compliant was not among them. "And you think that you are different?"

She quirked a grinned. "Because I'm not trying to subtle or sly. I'm offering a deal. Marriage and children, with both of us fulfilling our duties to the Assassins. No forced ties beyond that." The woman leaned against the wall. "No pressure for more. I don't want a status symbol, nor do I want a higher ranking." Which Malik was aware some of the others were after. They thought marrying him would increase their standing, and intended to get him to assist in that.

Malik did have his sources.

"I simply want my children to have the best chances they can to survive. Being the sons and daughters of you would help that. The only one better would be the Grand Master, but he is already married." She met his eyes easily. Malik prided himself on reading people and reading them well, plus the fact that he did hear many things that happened around the halls of his home. This woman was a decent Assassin. Not the best, but decent. She was attractive, and blunt.

He really did appreciate blunt. The fact he spent time with Altair said as much.

"I will think of it," he said finally, not willing to make any commitment beyond that. He would decide what to do after some thought.

She was right about his duty to the Assassins.

"That is all I can ask," she said, and with a nod, left. Malik stood still for a few moments longer, then went to climb up the stairs.

Heights let him think better.

bExpecting/b

The curve of her belly fits under his hand so easily, and Altair has never felt this sort of awe before.

What had been flat just the other day now had an arching line. A line that spoke of the promise there, of something happening that he would never be able to duplicate.

Altair killed people. He did not create them.

Maria was, and that was...amazing.

bFall/b

It was the rush of the wind in his face, the feel of his clothes pulling tight against them as the air caught them. It was the faith that he would land safely and unharmed.

Leaps of faith were named appropriately, and it was a fitting challenge to prove an Assassin's dedication, if not a complete one.

Altair had done it, and it had taken a great deal more for him to truly understand the Creed.

Malik, however, relished the leaps. At first, simply for the rush. Then it had been for the chance of that faith being proven wrong after the mission where Kadar...

Now, he did it to show his children just what a true Assassin did when they trusted themselves enough to fly.

bGod/b

Given the nature of Assassins, the idea of God was a distant one, no matter what religion they followed. There was some converting between one group and another, but for the most part, even the most divergent of followings were ignored. Outside, who one followed was very much a cause for death and fighting. Inside, they had enough to worry about with the Templars. Fighting over religion and what deity one followed was not tolerated. As a result, there were a great mix of shrines around the grounds.

Maria admitted, it was a bit hard to get used to, something she and other newcomers to the Assassins talked about at times. It still amazed her that there could be such a great battle going on between the Christians and Muslims all around them, yet inside the Assassins walls, you got people like Altair. Someone born to parents who followed different faiths. Such a thing outside was very rare. Especially now.

Sometimes, though, she wondered if any of them honestly believed, or if they only paid lip service to blend in better with the people who did not grow up wielding hidden blades and learning how to kill targets quietly. They had devotion, but not to God, any of the gods.

To the Creed.

It was the center of their world, and even as Altair and Malik were working on changing everything, they still held to the Creed. It was their faith, their love, their focus.

The Creed was the center of the Assassins faith, and Maria wondered at times what would happen if that faith was ever broken.

One day, she would have to ask her husband on it.

bHome/b

Sighing softly, Jameela was never so happy to see familiar walls as she was now.

Home.

With a small shift of a knee, the horse she rode perked up, moving a little faster up the road. Of course, he knew that he'd get to rest and eat once they were inside, so of course he was happy to move a little faster. Jameela was just happy to be back from her latest contract. She was a trained Assassin, and trained well enough to manage her contracts, but the main reason she was sent out was because she was so attractive. Looks could get one in close to more than a few targets, and her natural appearance had brought her more than a few contracts.

But out there, she had to fit their rules, and while every Assassin knew the rules, they were very bad at following them unless they had to.

At home, well, they didn't. Home meant she could wear what she wanted, and do what she wanted without having to fear offending the wrong official. Assassins treated the fledglings the same, no matter the gender. If one was pretty enough, one was taught seduction. If one was smart enough, they were taught encryptions. When they were both smart and pretty, they were taught both. When they were strong, they were taught weapons that used that strength, and when they were fast, they were taught to be quicker than a startled breathe.

Home was always a welcomed sight for a weary traveler, and Jameela was more than ready to be back for a while. The last mission had been a long one, and she wanted to see what Raja was doing now. Her daughter was just beginning to walk when she had left, and she only hoped that Maria had done some sort of reining in of Malik while she was gone, or the spirits only knew what he was teaching their child.

Other than to annoy Altair. That had started from day one, with her screaming every time the Grand Master of the Assassins tried to keep her from chewing on his fingers.

Smiling, she nodded to the guard and guided the gelding inside.

It was good to be home.

bIllness/b

Ionas hated being sick.

In the other room, he heard his brother talking. Tilting his head, he listed to what he could of Ayah's words, trying to figure out what the man was saying. They had been caught in a storm while returning from the latest scouting mission their father had sent them on. The Assassins were spreading out, and they needed to find new homes, even now. He knew that Raja was being sent east, which was a bit sad, as he'd been hoping to see her while he and Ayah were in the city, but she was apparently gone already.

Ah, Ayah was talking to Aleser, Malik's son. Ionas wanted to get up and go join the conversation, but when he shifted, there was a throb deep in his chest, and he started to cough.

It hurt, a thick, wet sound tearing its way out of his chest. As he coughed, the band that seemed to wrap around his chest drew tighter, and his vision went white and spotty as he focused on not choking on the slime he was coughing up.

Disgusting, and then there was a hand on his back and a bowl in front of him for him to spit the filth out. As he did, the hand on his back rubbed slow circles along his spine, helping loosen the tightness there. Finally, he settled back, and looked up at the two men who were in the room with him.

"I think," he said, meeting Aleser's blue eyes, "that I will blame you."

His friend snorted. "And why am I getting blamed for this?"

"Because you are here. That is really all the reason I have ever needed to blame you for things."

"Perhaps you should blame the fact that you forgot to bring a raincloak," Ayah said dryly, eyes looking a bit worried as he looked at Ionas.

"In any case," Ionas said as cheerfully as he could, which wasn't much with the rough sound of his voice, "tell us how your sister is doing." That was to Aleser, who was still frowning some as he looked Ionas over. There was nothing much either of them could do, other than wait and see. The healer had already given him a few things to take, and told his father than the only real cure was rest and warmth.

Which meant, of course, that Altair had ordered Ionas to his rooms and to -stay- there until he was better.

Better, though, was a very subjective word. Especially in their household. Better meant that Ionas could sneak out and stay uncaught for more than a few hours of active hunting of his family, who would try to force him back to the room.

It was an interesting measuring stick, but it worked for them.

He still hated being sick, though, especially with the look it brought to his parents eyes. He knew there was a child between himself and Ayah that nobody really spoke up, one who had died young and of some sort of illness. Anytime he or Ayah were less than healthy, it seemed to remind them of their lost son, which neither of the living ones wanted to do.

Right now, though, he was content to sit in bed, moving his feet so Aleser could settle, and listen to his friend talk about what interesting things Raja was finding and sending back letters about as she traveled.

bJourney/b

It had been a long trip to get here, and Altair had to pause, feeling his age in his joints, and just needing a moment. Behind him, silent, were his sons. Beyond them were Malik and Jameela with their children.

In his arms, he held Maria, one last time.

She was wrapped in a simple white shroud, the fine material letting him see her as if she was wrapped in mist. It hurt, realizing he wasn't going to see her again after this.

Her faith called for burial, and he was doing his best to honor that. Some were like the rituals he had seen as a child, but the burial was important. Someone had spoken the words over her already, and all the family had left to do now was to take her to her final spot.

She had loved this area, where the mountain looked over a wide valley. So here he would lay her down for the last time, so that she would always be able to see it.

It had been a long walk, and he had shared the task of holding her with Ayah and Ionas taking turns. Once with Malik.

But this last bit, he would do, and he would not share with any other.

He was silent as they walked, saying his goodbyes to her with no noise. They had always been as likely to argue as to be civil, and it was part of why he loved her.

Now he was going to have to go on without her, and he wasn't sure how to do that anymore.

Instead, he walked, and focused on these moments, so that he would always remember them.

bKismet/b

Looking down at his son, Malik stretched out his hand and brushed his fingers lightly along a soft baby cheek. There was a bit of a wiggle, and the baby opened his eyes.

Such blue, blue eyes.

Jameela had blue eyes, and he should have remembered the possibility of one of their children having them as well.

But when Aleser had opened his eyes, Malik's first thought was not Jameela, but of a long lost brother.

For a moment, he hadn't been able to breath, the sudden thought of Kadar a shock to his system. It had been a busy time, and he was suddenly hit by what was missing.

His brother should have been here. He should have been beside Malik, looking at his nephew. He should have been around to spoil his niece. He should have been around giving Malik nieces and nephews of his own to spoil

Instead, his brother was long dead. Malik had never even been able to make sure that the body was properly buried. Between the fact Kadar had fallen in a fight with the Templars, and the fact that Malik had been too ill with the loss of his arm to do anything, nobody had gone to find out for sure what had happened to his baby brother's body.

For a moment, there was a surge of hate for Altair, but he forced it down.

Destiny.

If Altair had not failed so at the mission to Solomon's Temple, Malik was not sure what would have happened, but he was sure of one thing. Al Mualim was betraying the Brotherhood, and only what Altair learned while regaining his mastery lead to the discovery of that. If the man had not failed at the Temple, many more Assassins might have died, and the Templars would have the Apple. He had accepted that Altair had learned what the Creed meant, and had grown up. Grown past being the foolish boy who had ruined so many things.

Malik missed his brother, especially at moments like this, watching as Aleser shut his eyes again and went back to sleep.

But missing him would not bring Kadar back, and Malik hoped that the flashes of pain would fade again, as they had the first time unless Kadar was brought up.

Fate had chosen their paths, and mortals could only walk them.

That thought did not make him feel better, but it did remind him that he still had a path to walk. Kadar was part of that path once, now he would walk it with his family.

For as long as they had.

bLoss/b

There were many sad faces around when Malik and Jameela married. A few thought of it as a great disaster, and lost their hope for a happy future. The man had been quite sought after, and the fact that his bed was full meant that there was little chance of any others being welcomed in. He had Jameela and Altair, and that was more than enough for any man. Especially if some of the other rumors were true and Maria was joining them.

Maria would have been horrified if she had heard those rumors.

bMoon/b

It was something all four of them did from time to time. Maria and Jameela had become surprisingly good friends. Though what surprised Malik more was the fact that she got along well with Altair. Malik considered the man a friend, but he was well aware of how...abrupt he could be at times. And an abrupt Altair was a rude Altair, one who rubbed people the wrong way on a regular basis.

Jameela had just laughed and told a story about one of her seemingly unlimited cousins and how Altair reminded her of him.

So it wasn't quite a surprise when he had been climbing to the top of one of the towers one night, and stumbled across the pair together.

Thankfully, not in a suspicious way, or else he would have had to kill Maria before she killed either Altair, Jameela, or both. She tolerated what time Malik and Altair spent in each others beds, but Malik was sure that was only because he was male, and she felt less jealous of him. Another woman, though...

Maria would slaughter them. Then put the head on a pike to display it.

In any case, when he found them sprawled on the cool stone of the tower, he realized they were pointing out various stars, murmuring about the shapes and colors that were found in the heavens.

After a moment, he had slipped from the shadows and joined them under the pale glow of the moon.

It only took a few more encounters like that to get Maria to join them, and now it was usually the four of them, tucked away from the rest of the Brotherhood, sharing some late night feast, and watching the skies.

bNeck/b

The blade tip prodded at Ayah's throat, and he sighed. Tilting his head back, he signaled his surrender.

Raja smiled smugly. "It's because you keep training with Ionas and Aleser, and they are great giant people. I am quick and fast."

She dropped her arm, and then, with a grin, leaned in and nipped at his throat. "Shall we find something else to do before our baby brothers come to find us?" It was said with a small laugh, and Ayah chuckled.

"One day your father is going to find out about us, and he is going to murder me in a slow, messy way."

"Yes, but until then, we have what we have."

Ayah just smiled, and offered his hand to her, and she took it, pulling him to his feet.

She was worth a painful, messy death.

bOath/b

"Swear to put it away, Altair. -Swear- it!"

"I...cannot, Malik. You know why."

"Then begone from my sight until you can."

They did not speak again for almost a year.

bPractice/b

"Come on, children! I know you have been taught better than this!"

Altair chuckled some, watching Rauf run the fledglings through the basic practices, Malik standing next to him.

"They are looking like a good batch, this year." Malik said softly, eyes watching the children move through the forms. "He is good with them."

"He is Rauf. The man is good at what he does." Chuckling a bit, Altair glanced between the training class and Malik. "The boys will start with him next year. Hard to believe they are that old already."

"Raja keeps tormenting her brother, so I am sure that formal training is just going to end up with the fights breaking more things around the house. I might have to tie them up and drop them off at the nearest Bureau if they become even more violent at each other." There was a great deal of fondness in Malik's voice, as there almost always was when he spoke of his children to Altair.

"I see the pair of you up there. Why don't you two come down here and show the children how it is done?" That was the yell from below, and both men looked down to see that they were being looked at.

"We are being summoned, it seems," Altair said with a chuckle. "Shall we listen?"

Malik's answering grin was sharp and more than a little smug. "Yes. I will show them how one defeats a Grand Master."

bQuarrel/b

Ionas was five the first time Altair and Maria had a fight he could remember. Before that, there was sharp words and mockery, but he knew his parents cared for each other greatly.

This, though, frightened him, and he clung to his brother's side, shivering and feeling a little better when Ayah wrapped arms around him.

"It will be all right," he said softly into Ionas's hair, the younger boy clinging even tighter to his brother. "They fight, and they are angry, but it will be all right."

Ionas held as tight to those words as he did to his brother, and tried to ignore the yelling. It would be okay, Ayah said so.

bRace/b

They always seemed to be trying to beat time. To outpace it, to hold it back.

That never worked.

The children grew up, grew older, grew distant as they found their own lives and own families to take care of. Joints stiffened, reactions slowed, and the will to battle faded as old age crept in and made men and women comfortable in their lives. Cities spread and the Brotherhood spread with them, making it hard to keep up with just what was going on at times.

People grew old, and they died.

When Maria had passed, Altair had been lost for a while, unsure of what to do without her comforting presence by his side. Malik had helped as best he could, Jameela beside him. They had helped support him, kept him from being devoured by the silence that had been left behind with the death of his wife.

Now he was doing the same for Malik. The pair had married because of a deal, but they had come to care for each other greatly, to love one another. And that love for Malik had allowed Jameela to love Altair as well. That was not something Altair had much of. He was respected, yes, but he was also feared. As the Grand Master, most of the Brotherhood only approached him if they needed to, with him instigating most of the interactions. To be accepted as Jameela eventually had was a gift he had been happy to gain.

But time had won the race yet again, and Jameela was the one to be buried this time. Hand wrapped around Malik's wrist, he watched as Aleser carried his mother on, Raja behind him, with Malik and Altair behind her. Trembles raced through Malik, Altair could feel them through his hold on the man.

This time, Altair would be the support. He would be there as long as Malik needed. Now they would keep going as they had to, until the day came when time beat them again.

bSnow/b

Sometimes, when he least expected it, Malik was surprised by the woman he had agreed to marry. Though she had mostly caught his attention by directly coming to him and bartering for their marriage. That was unusual, and he had appreciated the straightforwardness of her actions. Which was probably why he had eventually agreed.

But right now, his breath caught as she sat on her horse, looking up at the sky with a smile, and bits of snow drifting down to rest on her dark hair. She was beautiful.

That always seemed to surprise him.

bTools/b

Assassins were only as good as their weapons, and every one of them knew that. They were fighters, tools for the Grand Master to use, so their gear had to be of quality. Blades and other weaponry were a popular gift between members of the Brotherhood, and among the Grand Master and his family, this was no exception.

They did not go for the exotic, unless it was for Altair. The man seemed to excel at mastering unusual weapons, so it was something of a game to bring him something new to try to figure out.

But good, quality weapons were a mainstay in the household, even when the children moved out. As the children and the grandchildren began to grow up, it was as much a game as a necessity to discover what each of them were good at. Assassins were trained with as many weapons as possible, but some were just -better- at specific weapons. So it was fun trying to figure out who fit with what.

Maria preferred swords, or any blade she could get her hand on. Ayah was surprisingly proficient with more blunt objects. The youngest, Ionas, was a talented marksman, and could hit almost anything he aimed for with a crossbow.

So, like most families that were Assassins, gift giving usually involved chosen weapons.

That made life very interesting at times as two energetic brothers often tried to 'test' said weapons on each other.

bUnderstanding/b

Only after his child was born did Altair begin to fully understand how Malik had felt after Solomon's Temple. Before that, he had no real family. His mother and father were dead, and he had no siblings, no person who he could claim blood ties with. So he understood the loss of Kadar as he would understand the loss of a person one worked with, a partner more than anything.

Now that he held his own son, he began to realize just how the death of Kadar must have hit his friend. There was something about family, family that you spent time with that was different than a person who you worked with. There was something about blood that made that feeling strong at times. Given the amazing amount of bitterness and anger Malik had directed at him, Altair knew that the bond between the brothers was much stronger than he had had with his own blood kin. But, then, Malik and Kadar were together, and did treat each other like family.

This was part of the reason he had reversed the Traitor's commands, and allowed the Assassins to have their families, instead of telling parents that they could not show love to their own children.

He wondered how his own parents had managed. Holding his son in his arms, Altair wondered how any parent managed to hide their love for their child.

What would it have changed if he had not been so dedicated to the Al Mualim, using him as a father figure instead of his real father?

Though Altair knew that wondering about what might have been was pointless. Instead, he focused on this new revelation.

He owed Malik so much more than he could ever repay, even if the man had apparently decided to forgive Altair.

Altair wasn't so sure that he forgave himself anymore.

bVermin/b

"We're getting a cat."

That was Maria's declaration after having a rat run over her foot in the darkness.

From there, they had a whole line of cats, each a child of one of the ones before. An interlocked chain of blood and family.

Altair liked to think that his own family line would last that long.

bWork/b

Aleser sighed as yet another man came over and asked his price. Deflecting the inquiry, he wished that he had not inherited so much of his mother's looks. While it did make certain missions easier, it also meant he had been trained in seduction arts. Which was rather annoying at times, especially when he was sent on these missions.

The target had a think for pretty young men, and the contract had been handed over to Aleser without the least bit of hesitation.

He was going to have to do something nasty back to Uncle Altair in revenge. Ionas would help him figure something out, simply so he would know in advance when to avoid the house of his father. And it would have to be really nasty, too, because this little house of whores was disgusting. Disgusting and the place of choice for the target. Aleser just had to wait for the man to arrive and to lure him in.

Until then, he would have to deal with the constant questions on how much it would cost to have him for a bit.

Across the room, Ayah was sitting, though he didn't deal with the attention that Aleser was getting. He was the backup for this contract. The target tended to go around with a rather large group, and it was decided that two Assassins were better than one here. Which was true, but it also meant that Aleser knew what the trip home would be like. There would be constant jokes about the men hitting on him, and most likely a great deal of teasing of how much money Ayah could make if he did rent Aleser out by the hour.

Aleser made a note that if Ayah was too unbearable, he would simply add the man to his list of people to get revenge on.

Then the target stepped into the room, and Aleser shifted, body language suddenly welcoming, open. It worked, as the target almost instantly focused on him.

Time to do his job.

bXeric/b

Raja was thankful that the air here was dry. It made the temperature less miserable. She could only imagine what it would be like if the weather was wet as well as so blasted hot.

They had water, and they weren't in the desert proper, but the scrub lands around the sand were just as lethal to those who were not prepared. Which, thankfully, she was. When she had been given this assignment, the oldest child of Malik had begun to plan. Her father had gone over what details she had given him, sharing his experience by offering up an idea or three. Unlike Aleser, she was willing to listen without huffing over it, and simply debated each idea to see if it fit well.

Thankfully, she had her mother's temper, and was good at dealing with people. Which was the entire focus of this mission.

Altair had assigned her to head east and start spreading the Brotherhood there. To find recruits and set up Bureaus in new cities, to find new homes from the Brotherhood to rest in.

But, first, she had to get through this almost-desert, where the air was dry and sucked the moisture from her skin. Rain might be nice at first, but she knew how cold the air would get after the sun set, and she preferred dry heat to wet cold. They had plenty of water, and were moving faster than expecting, having managed to find the remnants of a road that had been forgotten. It lead the right direction, as she and the others made sure to check often, and made traveling go much smoother. There was some speculation of it being an ancient trade road, so they were keeping an eye out for signs of buildings. Buildings meant the possibility of water, and fresh water was always preferable to the old water in the skins.

Sitting easily on her animal, Raja watched as they moved, enjoying the time of quiet. All too soon, her days would be full of things, with no time to enjoy even the beauty even this place had to offer.

Dry, but pretty.

bYelling/b

Laughing, the children started in to get drinks, the four of them sweaty and thirsty after their practice. The youngest two had just been allowed to start weapons training, so their respective older siblings had been working at helping them learn.

Stepping into the door, Raja paused as she heard yelling. Specifically Uncle Altair and Father yelling at each other. Quite loudly, and getting louder. She looked at Ayah, then at Aleser and Ionas.

"We should go to Uncle Altair's house for drinks," she said after a moment, wrinkling her nose as she heard something crash. The other three quickly agreed.

Altair and Malik yelling at each other usually lead to them doing other things, and none of the kids wanted to see their fathers doing -that-.

bZealot/b

Maria scowled at the man ranting on the corner, reading from a book that she knew well.

"There are always some, aren't there," Jameela said softly to her friend. "Ones who go too far in their worship of a thing, who become a liability." She shook her head.

"Yes," Maria agreed as they walked away from the other. "Of course, zealots are not only found in religion." That was said with a bit of a strained voice.

Right now, they were playing bait, trying to lure out someone who had crossed that line. An Assassin who had taken to killing any and all Templars out there.

He had called Maria a Templar slut more than a few times, so she had agreed to play lure. Jameela had been a mostly unknown lower Assassin when the man had left, and was playing lady in waiting to her friend, pretending to be someone untrained.

The man was brining unwanted attention to the Assassins, and Altair wanted it stopped.

"Zealots are everywhere," murmured Jameela, trying hard to not be too overt scanning the crowd. "We just have to deal with them one at a time, right?"

Maria chuckled. "I suppose. We managed to deal with everything else in the world. At least, that is how it feels at times."

"This is why I was perfectly happy being rather unremarkable, other than looks," was the cheerful reply. "Much less likely to end up in the thick of things."

"And yet you end up there anyway, with your choice of husband."

"Just as much as you. One would think they would get tired of always being in trouble."

They shared a look, and then began to chuckle.

"Altair and Malik?" Maria got out between soft sounds of amusement. "No, I think they were born to be in trouble. I just hope the children do not inherit that knack."

She knew it was a futile hope, but it was a hope none the less, and Maria set her mind back on task. They had an fool to catch.


End file.
